


Peace

by lizmindpalace



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Andrew Scott - Freeform, Crying, Death, Get depressed with me, Heartbreaking, I Am Depressed, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Jim Moriarty - Freeform, Jim Moriarty deserved better, One-Shot, Other, Sad, What Was I Thinking?, sherlock bbc - Freeform, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 20:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15848892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizmindpalace/pseuds/lizmindpalace
Summary: The rooftop act. The last one.





	Peace

It used to be just a silly idea at the beginning. He was clever. More than anyone could understand.  
He was just a child but his parents had already noticed about his intellectual prowess.  
The real trouble started once everyone noticed.  
He was just a boy. A boy who used to play, who used to laugh, who used to be happy, until he was obligated to go to his local school.  
Children. They were all the same. He just wanted to play. The first years were easy, but when he was eight years old, the other children started to bully him because of his abilities.  
And he had become darker and darker. And left alone.  
People are always saying things about being good to everyone else, respectful, tolerant... But what does happen when they ignore the clever one because they find him boring? Like if he was a machine with no feelings. Like if he needed no one just because he had a lack of social abilities which society had caused too. Didn't they ever think about how many tears the little boy had cried during nights? He had problems too. Just like everyone else. Smarter but a human. Human... What a terrible word, what a terrible species. Selfish, liar, cruel. He didn't want to be like them. He had to be better.  
Being alone is something hard to get over with. But with the years he had learnt.  
The little shadow grew older, alone, dark and hurt. Society destroys smart people, drowns them in the deepest part, make them want to die, or to kill, or both.

The rooftop act. The last one.  
How much had he thought about it? It was time. Now. A gunshot and everything would be over. The feeling causing pain to his heart would end. All the tears he had contained would drain as the blood inside his veins, as the pain. All his frustrations would end, ordinary people with empty brains would stop bothering. Just himself and silence in a grave. Lonely but at least he would not notice. Maybe if he was lucky, he would never see the light again, darkness would take care of him, would be there just for him, and most important, maybe he would forget about everything, about pain, about life and stop thinking. It would be like if he was asleep. Like he was trying to wake up from a nightmare like he always expected but never happened, but this time, he wouldn't like to wake up, because this time is not a nightmare, it is what he wanted since a long time ago, he doesn't even remember when started to hate life, maybe always did. This time the time would stop for a minute, for an hour, forever. And he wouldn't see how terrible his resting place would look like during the autumn, during the winter, and he wouldn't get cold or warm, he wouldn't exist, and that he would get eventually forgotten or reminded of the "pain" he was responsible for. No one knowing the truth, no one listening to his screams for help.  
The last sound from this land he heard was the sound of life. A mix of beautiful sounds that he had never listen to before. A bird singing, water from a waterfall, raindrops, a relaxing rain what he identified as the one that used to fall over his parents summer house, away in the fields. The wind moving through the branches of the trees that made him cry during nights, his mother's steps over the wooden floor running to his bedroom to hold him - at that moment he could even smell her perfume and he smiled, the smile that remained on his face as his final expression- her sweet voice singing a lullaby to help him sleep. Maybe the only person who had loved him. And at the end, a baby cry, his own cry, the one that had brought him to life and now torn him from it.  
"I find peace in the silence" repeated to himself with his last breath, while saw the blue sky that last time saw something bright, it wasn't the sun.  
Closed his eyes. Everything was now solved. He would not be bored anymore. Finally, he had found peace. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was very depressed when I wrote this, sorry. I hope you liked it, let me know if you liked or not. Thank you for reading and sorry for any mistake.


End file.
